The Pirate King Ch. 12

He bound my manacled hands to the bedpost with the rope, leaving me stretched up and straining. I loved the feeling, loved the way I could hear the Captain's breath hitching as he looked me over. I pulled lightly on bindings and thought the Captain's breath might have stopped entirely.

"Fuck," he voiced quietly. His fingers ran down my body, starting at my wrists and ending just below my ribs. "Fuck."

That's the idea, I thought. I stretched a little further and watched him go speechless with desire for me.

I had time to smile before he dropped down to my lips, kissing me hungrily.

His hands never stopped their exploration of my body, the sensations of trickling fingers interspersed with the hard press of his palms to my skin. I gasped when he applied pressure; I thought my heart would stop while his fingers were so light my soul was being teased from my body. He caught my noises in his mouth and pressed them back to my lips with his tongue, making me understand the things he was doing to me, not letting me enjoy a moment without knowing that it was him who was giving that moment to me, that it was he who held my pleasure in the whirls of his fingertips and the callouses of his palms.

His hand made its way up to my neck and I loved him for it, needed his touch on all the parts that could make me fall apart. But he was teasing, holding back, controlling my fall and it was too much so I arched up into his hand and he reacted as he would with any body part that I pressed into him, that disobeyed him - he grabbed my neck and pressed down, hard.

At the sudden pressure I froze. Everything froze. There was nothing I could do except exist in the thousands of sensations, the absence of thought, that pervaded my being as his hand commanded the air from my throat and held the air in my lungs. I lay there, unable to move in the face of it all, unable to gasp or moan or voice my pleasure because of the hand on my throat, the danger in my body, the sea held at bay throbbing just under the warm, tight fingers of the Captain.

He, too, had frozen at the sudden and surprising escalation. Now he gently released the pressure, his eyes hard on my face as he watched for any signs of distress. I wanted to smile, or talk, or tell him that I was alright, but the sea was spreading through my body faster than it ever had before and I didn't know how to even create a voice, let alone make it do what I needed it to do.

"You okay?" he whispered, his thumb lightly running just under my chin. The light sensation felt like lightning; I wanted to be struck. I wanted him to atomize me, to turn me to steam and salt and spray and I found my body pressing into the sensations without thinking. I had time to let out a moan before his hand was tightening again and I was lost.

It took a moment after the pressure lifted before I could return to the world around me from the world within. I felt the Captain's hand first, light and still on my throat; then I heard my own breathing, the blood rushing into my head. The ocean following, crashing, expanding. When I finally opened my eyes I found the Captain staring down at me, his free hand deep in his dark locks, his face open. His eyes dark.

"Fuck," he muttered. "Do you know what you look like when -" He tightened his hand just the slightest bit and I felt my body light up.

"Fuck," he said again. "Jesus. Gods. Fuck."

I had no need for the gods, for any of the beings other men might worship. What were they to me when I could have this man kneeling beside me, so perfect, so intimate? His was the only command I needed; the only one I would ever head. "Fuck me," I whispered to him, feeling the way my voice had to slip past his hand. His control. I watched him swallow and knew he felt it too. "Sir, please fuck me."

"Love." His eyes were wide and dark, so dark. I needed him so badly and he had barely touched me yet. "I'm not going to last long enough for that if you keep this up."

My only response was to press into his hand again, pulling at my restraints in the same motion. His eyes flared for a moment, and then he was on me.

He straddled me so fast I didn't have time to think, let alone react; but what could I have done? His hair fell around my face, his fingers digging into the sides of my throat.

"Stop," he whispered. But he didn't command, so I lifted into his fingers and pressed my lips to his.

He indulged me just long enough that I almost forgot all the things that he was. Then he became lightning.

He moved so fast, so fast. One moment he was with me; the next he was gone, moving down my body with his mouth. His hands trailed behind his head, fingers raising fire over my ribs and causing me to cry out. My back arched, lifting me from the bed and causing me to pull hard against my restraints, but I barely felt it as the Captain's mouth wrapped around my cock.

I only had a moment to enjoy the sensation before he was gone again. This time his hands led, pulling off my breeches and exposing skin for his lips to kiss and his teeth to bite.

I begged him to return to me, begged him to come back. I wasn't sure where I was begging him to go; to my cock, to my lips, to my neck, but he didn't go any of those places. Instead, he disappeared.

"Sir," I begged.

"Hush," he retorted. "I'm getting fun .

I wasn't sure what that meant, but I knew how my body felt about it. I laid there on the bed, the air swirling over the marks the Captain had already put on my body and making me feel like fire.

"Love." The Captain was back between my legs. He brought one of my ankles up around his shoulders, reminding me of the first night we spent together; only this time he didn't hold back, dropping just as many bites as kisses on the sensitive skin that lay there.

"Need you," I told him, feeling his fingers dance towards my exposed hole.

"I know." His fingers were there, but they were barely pressing. I needed so much more from him, such different things. I moaned my intent and pressed my head back against the bed. The Captain chose that instant to sink his fingers into my ass.

I cried out in pleasure and pain; the pain lasted mere seconds as my body welcomed him, his fingers finding their place in my body, sending sparks of pleasure through my entire core. He twisted his hand and pressed deeper and suddenly my entire world fell apart and I called for him, needing him to do it again, to never stop, to never do it again because I was going to fall to pieces there under just the pressure of his fingertips.

He did it again and I all but screamed.

He kept me that way, riding the line between screaming with pleasure and begging him to stop, his fingers scissoring in and out of my ass with a precision that I had come to love. I didn't have words; I didn't have an end goal. I was so close to coming. I was so close -

He pulled his fingers from me. I gasped, wanting to cry at the sudden emptiness. "Sir," I begged. I had no idea what I was begging for; I just needed him not to do what he was doing now, which was nothing. "Sir, please."

He didn't seem to notice my pleas. "You ready?" he asked me, and I was, I was so fucking ready, and so I nodded and then almost immediately something pressed against me.

If anything was to be penetrating me that night, I had thought it was to be the Captain. There was nothing else that had ever crossed my mind. This wasn't the Captain; it was cold, and it wasn't the right shape. I immediately froze to feel something so foreign so intimately invading my body, but the pressure continued. "Take it," the Captain whispered above me. "For me."

For him, I would do anything. And so I relaxed and let it into my body.

"Fuck," he whispered. I felt the cool, slippery surface moving into my ass. My body was so desperate to not be empty that it felt like it was grabbing it in, but it was larger than I was used to. There was a moment where I thought I couldn't take any more.

"Just a little more," the Captain told me. I took a breath, and then it was in me.

I felt full, and yet completely on edge. I wasn't sure that I was breathing, my body was so thinly spread. I lay there, still, my body exploring this feeling the Captain had given me and finding it incredible. The sea whirled around me, unwilling to settle in the face of all the sensations I was being made to bear. I could feel my body shaking; I wanted to shake more. I wrapped my hands around the bonds they lay in and breathed.

"Shit," the Captain whispered. "Holy fuck." His hands ran over the scars of my thighs, then back to my ass. "You look amazing."

I glanced down at him and found his eyes staring up at me, searching. "How do you feel?"

"Fuck," I told him, my eyes nearly rolling back in my head at the simple exertion of making that word pass through my lips.

He raised an eyebrow. "This okay?" He tapped on the plug still deep in my ass.

I lost myself in that moment, my body arching as the vibrations spread like electricity through my core. Each muscle spasmed and released in turn, some finding no resistance, some finding no resistance and others pressing hard against the plug pressed deep into my ass. When the wave passed I found myself tugged tight against the restraints at my wrists, panting.

I only had a moment to gather myself before the Captain tapped again, and I was sent back into a world of sparks, and stars, and the press of midnight skies against my ocean of a soul.

His other hand at some point came to my cock, began sliding up and down it's length in time with the pulsing staccato he was creating in my body. I shuddered beneath his ministrations, writhing and calling out as my body willed; I was not in control. I came undone for him, the sea crashed out and flooded the room. I tasted nothing but salt spray and the unmistakable tang of electricity, hovering just in the moment before a lightning strike, unwilling to move away, unable to take this sign of danger as anything but erotic, as love. And still he gave me more, drove me higher, and I was nearly flying apart.

He began speaking to me at a certain point; it took me a moment to center back in on his voice through the crackling storm my body had become. "Love," he was crooning, "love, come for me. Fuck, baby, come for me."

The next time he tapped against the toy in my ass, I could no longer hold it in. I came so hard I ceased to exist.

The first thing I noticed when I came back to reality was my breathing, long and low, as the sea beat against my chest back where it belonged. The next thing I noticed was the emptiness. The Captain must have removed the plug. I wanted it back. I thought about telling the Captain that, but the thought slipped through my brain and out to sea before I could even begin to work on getting my mouth to respond.

I felt like I was doing the same, floating in the sea, becoming lost in some great expanse. I wasn't sure where the shore was. I wasn't sure if I wanted to know. I was happy to just exist here, weightless, in the arms of the man who brought me such pleasure. Such freedom.

"Love," the Captain whispered. I might have responded in some way, hummed or nodded; I'm not sure. I felt his hands on mine, guiding them through space. He must have untied my irons from the headboard, I was able to think. Other than that, there was little to think about as my limbs traveled for him. My body was compliant. I was his to move.

His lips pressed into my neck. I sighed to feel his breath against my skin, so warm, so right. "Love," he repeated. His hand sunk into my hair; his other continuing to bring mine down to his still-rigid cock. My eyes fluttered open at the feeling of his desire, of his need. "Please," he said, and his word was both a command and a plea. I could ignore neither.

Together we began stroking his cock, his hand rough and controlling and gentle and everything around mine, his lips parted and pressed into the soft skin at the base of my neck. As the pace increased so did his breathing, his hand tightening in my hair. He began to whisper my name, how much he loved me, all the things he wanted to do to me. I moaned, trying to increase his pleasure by stroking him faster, but his grip was firm. His control was complete.

In time, his words turned to only curses and my name, then just my name. "Sailor," he whispered over and over again, then just, "love, fuck, oh love." As he came he said nothing, just sunk his teeth deep into my neck, his hand pulling my head back sharply by the hair.

I waited until he was completely done, the last of his shudders passing through him into my body, my own skin prickling at the beauty of him, the desire he held for me under his skin, in his body, his very breath. Then I lifted my hands from between us and passed them over his head, causing him to pull away from me for just a moment.

He was back in an instant, guided by my hand at the back of his head. My other hand rubbed at the back of his neck, all I could reach with my wrists still caught up in the irons.

"Fuck," he whispered to my collarbone. I smiled and kissed the top of his head, letting my lips linger against the skin I found there. In return, he kissed the bite he had laid into my skin: I shuddered at the sensation. His arm came up under mine, wrapping around my back and draping over my scars. My arms were wrapped around his head and shoulders, keeping his close to me. We were entwined. One. As we were meant to be.

Without another word, the two of us turned to sleep.

***

I always knew what time of day it was, even without the aid of the sun. How could I not, when I carried the sea and all it's rhythms within my very body?

And so when I awoke the next morning, I knew that it was nearing daybreak. The shutters were still closed from the night before. The Captain was still in my arms.

I shifted slightly to bring him closer; in return, his body turned into me, his forehead nestling against my collarbone. He fit perfectly in the protective circle of my arms, his head naturally against my neck, his body the logical conclusion to the curves of my own, my body nothing but the casing for his. I rubbed my thumb along the base of his neck and knew that I could exist here forever.

I couldn't, of course. Not today. The Captain needed to go back to his ship, and I needed to find the rest of my crew. We would be separated by days end.

The knowledge hit me suddenly, and with a violence that I had not anticipated. It hurt, suddenly, to hold him like that, so tight, so natural. Like I had only once before, the one morning we had together before I leapt from his ship into the ocean.

Was this the way it would always be? Was this how I was to exist around him, constantly waiting for the next moment of pain? Only able to touch him, hold him, gather him tight to my chest and whisper that I loved him on mornings before he was to leave, before I had to go? I couldn't live like that, like this; if this lasted, if this was our future. To be be forever pulled apart, two currents forever diverging. Was he a frigatebird, beautiful and filled with all things oceanic and yet unable to land in the water? Were we to be forever in proximity, destined to be two things so intricately connected that we would never truly be apart and yet never be allowed to be close enough to touch?

But no. Sybil had told me; he would be my husband. I would be with him forever. I had to trust these things, had to know them to be true. Else I would be lost.

I gathered him tight, not caring if I woke him. I needed to hold him, to feel him fitting against my body. I felt delicate, vulnerable, and the only way I knew to combat those feelings was to breathe him in deep, to know that he was here, safe, with me. That I was here with him.

I had him for now. I would have him again soon. It was enough. It would have to be.

"Love," I heard from my chest, but I wasn't ready to move. Only when he began squirming in my tight embrace did I reluctantly release my hold.

"Goddamn death grip," he muttered. I sighed, trying to keep my troubles to myself, but the Captain noticed. His fingers reached up to trace my cheek. I let myself melt into his fingers, dripping my trust and self into his eyes as he asked me to with only his actions.

I had him. It was enough.

He reached up and kissed me gently, pressing his lips against mine in a motion that caused me to turn to liquid entirely. When the kiss ended whatever tension I had been carrying was gone, replaced by the comfort and tranquility of his presence. Whatever the future held, I could handle it. So long as I had him.

He gazed up at me for a long time, just watching me. I looked back. It might have been to memorize his face, if I had not already done that. It might, then, have been a look to ask for trust, but we were trust incarnate. And so it wasn't any one thing past just looking. Watching. Being. And I would have it no other way, so happy was I just to exist in his presence.

Then he smiled. And my world was filled with sunshine even before the sun rose.

"I was promised something about a hot bath," he said. I smiled back and began the delicate process of extricating our bodies from one another.

It took some time to get to the master bath; we had to find our way through each others limbs, and not be distracted in the process, which was hard enough. Then the Captain insisted on stopping to find the key to the irons that still bound my wrists. I told him I'd be happy to keep wearing them, but he just shook his head.

"Too damn distracting," I think I heard him mutter as he dug through the chest. I settled on the bed and waited. In the end, the key was found and my wrists were free. I celebrated by letting my limbs get wrapped up in the Captain's again.

"No," he complained. Quietly. I smiled and kissed him, pushing us both towards the room I knew held the bath. It took some time for us to reach it, but I didn't mind. From the noises the Captain was making, I quite think he didn't either.

The water was heated beneath the brothel using the volcano, and so it ran hot almost immediately. We let the bath fill, choosing to continue exploring each other's bodies rather than the room around us. When the water reached halfway, the Captain stopped it and stepped away from me. He rummaged through a few cabinets.

I leaned against the bath's side. It was a large wooden basin, circular and deep. Even half full the water would come up to my chest when I was sitting.

The Captain found what he was looking for and made his way back to me. I smiled at the sight of him, naked and beautiful, as he drug a stool up next to the bath and placed the goods in his arms on the surface. Then he turned to me, capturing my lips in a blistering kiss.

One moment we were kissing; the next I was falling through space, hitting the water with a splash. I could hear his laughter from above me, could still feel the pressure of his push on my chest. I didn't mind, just sunk into the warmth, let the wet liquid spill over my skin and through my fingers, my hair, letting myself become completely submerged. Only when I heard the muted splash of the Captain getting in himself did I resurface.

He was grinning at me. I smiled back, best I could with just my eyes above the water.

"C'mere," he commanded, and I moved through the warm water until I reached his hot body. He grabbed my shoulder and pulled me around so that my bulk was resting against his slighter frame, my weight taken by the density of the water. "Let's get you clean."

The soap he chose smelled of lilacs. I hummed into the water in approval as he sudsed up my hair, then lifted up my body so he could reach my neck, my shoulders, then each arm in turn. He took his time, working not just to clean the skin but to massage each muscle and soon I was all but becoming warm liquid myself, my mind filled with nothing but the tranquility of the sea and the feel of his gentle hands.